Expiration Date
by newyorknancy
Summary: Fig finally gets what she always wanted, but the details are a little different than she had anticipated. Fig/Caputo, because I can. T for language.


_A/N: I haven't written for a really long time, so I wanted to do something fun to get me back into the swing of things. Fig is probably my favourite character on OITNB, and I saw someone post this idea on the IMDB boards, so I just wanted to expand on it to help me get back into the swing of things._

Fig hated waiting. The fact that the thing you were anticipating could happen at any moment and there was nothing you could do about it made her uncomfortable. She liked to always retain a modicum of power, no matter what the situation was; it made things easier for her, because if she was always in control, she could never be caught unaware. From her own experience, being surprised usually only led to bad things.

"I swear to god, if you don't open this door right now, I'm going to take these shoes off and jump your fence. I know you're in, your car is on the drive. So answer the fucking door, Caputo."

The threat of her forcing an entry was certain to bring him running and sure enough, she heard his heavy footsteps approaching the door, followed by the bolt undoing. He grimaced when he saw her.

"Nat," he sighed. It had been 2 weeks since she'd last seen him - he looked tired, and thinner too. "Why are you here?"

"Why are you dressed like someone's dad at a Bon Jovi concert?"

"My band is practising." He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor.

"Please, spare me the details of your pathetic social life." She pushed past him, and began to climb the stairs, heading in the direction of his bedroom. He followed her, saying something nonsensical, but she didn't pay much attention to him; his meditations on life bored her witless and she had no time to listen to his problems today. This had to be done now, or it'd never be done at all. Once she reached his room, she sat down on the bed and began to go through the items in the drawer of his bedside table.

"You keep your condoms here, don't you?", she asked.

"Yeah, but will you wait a minute? We can't do anything right now. Not with the guys downstairs. Unless you're into that."

She whipped around to face him, no hint of a smile on her face. "You're disgusting," she spat. Caputo shrugged in response, unfazed by her antagonism towards him. It was par for the course by this point. Fig soon found what she was looking for, the black box she'd seen him reach into time and time again. She picked a condom out and turned the packet over in her hands, searching intently for the piece of information she needed, waiting for it to confirm her fears. And then, there it was, on the underside of the side of the wrapper: "EXP DATE - 01/2009". Before she realised what she was doing, she'd thrown the box against the wall and all the wrappers had spilled out onto the floor.

"I knew it."

"Fig, are you gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?" Caputo sounded exasperated; his voice had risen slightly, but not enough to alert his miserable little group downstairs that something was happening.

"Your condoms are past their expiration date. By six years," she shouted. She didn't care if his friends heard her. In fact, there was part of her that wanted them to know. If people knew, that'd mean he couldn't get out of it. "Do you know what happens to expired condoms, you moron? They split. Sperm gets through split condoms. And sperm gets you pregnant." Her bag was next to her on the bed and she reached into it, picked up a blue stick and tossed it towards him. "I'm pregnant. It's yours."

"Shit." He sat down next to her on the bed. "I thought you'd be, you know, past the cut off point."

"Fuck you, Caputo. Don't be funny with me. This is your fault."

There was a pause that neither of them seemed willing to fill, but it was Caputo who spoke first. "Are you gonna keep it?"

"Do you think I want to burden my child with your pitiful genes?"

"But it's definitely mine?"

"Who else's would it be?" She turned to look at him, with nothing but contempt in her eyes. It was embarrassing, frankly. Her husband, despite the obvious detracting factors, would at least have been able to be a proper father. What could Joe possibly do? He'd have no time for a child born out of hate.

"Ah, I forgot for a second that your husband bats for the other team," Caputo smirked. "So you're getting rid of it, then."

"I don't know, okay? I don't fucking know. I just thought you should be aware of what's happening here," she replied, gesturing to her stomach while she did so. He put his head in his hands. "Grow some fucking balls, Joe."

With that, she picked up her bag and made her way back down the stairs, out the door, and into her car, ready to go home to her husband as though nothing was wrong.


End file.
